Maximum Efficiency
by iviscrit
Summary: Kuvira has always been a paragon of practicality and efficiency, from running a country to drilling her soldiers to... showering? For saigneux.


_For saigneux. I write two of my headcanons: germaphobe!Kuvira and... well, I don't want to spoil it._

_For this to work, just pretend that she didn't think to earthbend the muck off. Either way, she'll still feel gross and sweaty. SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF TO ENJOY THE STORY OKAY_

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Kuvira wrinkled her nose as each step she took seemed to release sand and flecks of mud into the immaculate interior of the mag-train. Drilling the infantry wasn't usually such a messy affair, but stopping at the sandy outskirts of the western fringe had proved a poor idea. Once the rain had begun to fall, she had been every bit as tempted as the troops to call it a day and return to the train. "Soldier, get over here," she said, seeing a cadet a little ways ahead of her in the hall. "Clean this mess up."

"Yes commander," the young man said, saluting, "but.. ma'am, you're just going to keep tracking it in."

"I'm well aware," she said with a sigh. "It started raining midway through the drill." Her eyes narrowed. "Which squadron are you in?"

"Nineteen, commander."

"All right." Kuvira metalbended her armor off as carefully as possible, wincing when it released a shower of sand onto the ground. "What's your name?"

"Chen, commander."

"I need you to get me a couple of towels, Chen," Kuvira said, pursing her lips as she regarded the mess of dirt and grit on her leggings. She was almost afraid to check the soles of her boots, and the longer she regarded the soiled uniform the more eager she was to be rid of it. Every grain of sand, each spattering of mud, each droplet snaking down her back from her hair -was it rainwater, or sweat? she didn't want to know- brought her closer to minor panic. Kuvira was fastidious to a fault about hygiene and cleanliness, and being coated in a film of muck made her uncomfortable.

"Yes, commander," the cadet said, starting off.

"You may want to bring a female army member along," Kuvira called after him. "I don't need to answer awkward questions from my fiance later."

The cadet grinned, saluting again. "I'll take care of it, commander."

"Thank you, Chen."

The cadet made good on his word, and Kuvira didn't have to wait long before one of her female soldiers was holding the towels around her as a screen, giving her coverage as she wormed her way out of the tights. She left the sodden material on top of the boots, cleaning off the soles of her feet as best she could. Her legs were still damp from the exertion in the rain with the troops, and the chilled air of the mag train raised goosebumps on her skin. "Will there be anything else, commander?"

"No, thank you. You're dismissed, send one of the privates to clean this up and take the pants to the laundry staff." She hurried to her room, anxious for a hot shower, and stopped short at the bathroom door.

It was locked, and from the sound of things, someone was in the shower.

"Baatar?"

There was no answer, and she scowled, an angry huff escaping her. "Baatar!" she snapped, wrapping on the door sharply with her knuckles. "Why are you in my bathroom? You have your own!"

She heard an exclamation of surprise, and water slowed. "Kuvira? Sorry, just give me ten minutes... I just got in."

"You're not a woman, you don't need that long. Why are you even here?"

"I had an accident in the lab with the acid and your bathroom was closer," he called through the door. "You wouldn't want me to suffer acid burns, would you?"

"You have an emergency wash in the lab," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and her expression darkening when some of the mess landed on her carpet. "Get out _now_."

"You're still supposed to shower properly after immediately cleaning the area. It's basic lab protocol. Give me ten minutes."

Kuvira swore under her breath, watching the clock with narrowed eyes. "You've got five." She wasted no time announcing that his allotted time had ended, tapping her bare foot against the floor in irritation when he insisted on one minute more. "That's it," she muttered, the feel of grime on her skin impossible to ignore any longer, and she was at the door.

She yanked it open and jerked the sliding shower door aside, her planned tirade dying on her lips as Baatar yelped in surprise and stopped the water. "Spirits, Kuvira. I said I only needed another minute." He wrapped a towel around his waist, looking at her with a combination of amusement and fear as he tucked the end in.

Kuvira felt her face heat and her jaw slacken, her eyes repeatedly straying from his face despite her best efforts to anchor them on his. "I…"

"Am I in trouble?" he said, smoothing back his wet hair and holding up his hands defensively. The water ran down his chest and arms in little rivulets, traveling down the defined crevices and planes of his muscles until they disappeared into the white fabric of the towel. The dirt and sweat that had settled on her skin suddenly seemed inconsequential.

"Are... what?" she said, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. She screwed her eyes shut for a moment, but when she opened them again he was _still_ standing before her, his skin damp and flushed from the steam. She barely registered the worry in his face or the self-consciousness in his pose; the cloud of mist around him did little to soften the contours of his body, or obscure the drape of towel around his hips...

"I'll just get out of your way," he said apologetically, a nervous edge to his voice. "I didn't know you were drilling the infantry, I thought you'd be away for longer.." He attempted to step around her, tensing when her hands suddenly gripped his upper arms as if by their own volition.

"You're not going anywhere," she said, her words sounding strained to her own ears. "No, you're paying for this…"

He cocked his head to the side, evident discomfort in every line of his face. "Fine, I'm sorry, I'll suffer the consequences- hey!"

Kuvira jerked him against her, the dust and sweat and dirt no longer confined to her uniform. She moved her hands to his shoulders, tipping her head back to look him in the face as she drew the swell of her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down.

"Oh no," she murmured, trailing a hand down the depression between the rise of the front walls of his chest. "How... _messy_ of me..."

She could feel his breath catch at the contact, and she slowly raised her eyes to his again. "Are you... am I interpreting this correctly?" he said hesitantly, his hands hovering over her waist. "I just showered—"

"It doesn't matter," she said, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him flush against her, repressing a smile when the knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I think you need another shower, Baatar."

"But it's your turn," he said, hands still poised without contact and his tone at last thick with desire.

"No matter," she said, releasing his shoulders to guide his hands to the buttons of her uniform as she reached for the towel at his waist. "You know how much I value efficiency."

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**A/N: Hehehehe I had fun with this one. Saigneux and I are going to hell. Also in light of recent accusations of me hating fcukboy, I want to reiterate that I do not hate anyone, and that I merely dislike him. However… he's a fine specimen to behold and Kuvira clearly agrees**.


End file.
